


Something's Gotta Give

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Reapers, Developing Relationship, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desolas has never been good at discussing his feelings. The words get caught in his throat, and things are left unsaid. And then the mission at Relay 314 blew up in everyone's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something's Gotta Give

**Author's Note:**

> Sections in italics denote one linear story; non-italicized text denotes a snapshot from another part of time, like flashbacks.

_Desolas padded slowly into the waiting room, checking between his omni-tool and the signs on the walls to make sure he’d read the directions right. He’d had a fear of hospitals for as long as he could remember, something his psychologist said was perfectly common among albinos due to the extensive medical procedures they often had to undergo during infancy, but he’d already put off this visit longer than he probably should have. Fear wasn’t a good enough excuse anymore._

_He’d deliberately dressed in civvies for the visit, but the receptionist recognized him anyway. He wasn’t surprised, really- the Arterius spines and markings were distinctive enough on their own, and his and the other officers’ faces had been plastered everywhere following 314. Part of him envied Abrudas for being stuck in the hospital, where she didn’t have to endure the media circus and reporters were kept out of the building._

_He coughed into his fist quietly. “Lieutenant Valis Abrudas, room 309?”_

_The receptionist nodded and tapped a few keys. “You’ll have to wait a bit, General. Dr. Corelus is with her at the moment.”_

* * *

 

Desolas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching as Lieutenant Abrudas led sparring practice. She was an imposing figure, brandishing her talons towards the ceiling as she bellowed challenges at the squadron. Broad and powerfully-built, she had the booming voice and brute strength to match, as evidenced by how quickly she slammed a particularly brave (or perhaps particularly stupid) private into the floor.

She was nothing short of a war spirit made flesh.

He felt something dig into his side, and glanced over to see Saren, methodically raking his talons along the plates on the back of his hand. “You’re staring again.”

“And you’re going to rip your plates off. Stop that.”

Saren briefly made eye contact long enough to drag his talons down his hand especially fiercely, then his gaze drifted back to one side, and his clawing went back to the previous intensity. “You always stare at her.”

Desolas snorted. “Of course I do. I have to watch my subordinates.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, hush, you little brat.” He shoved him slightly with his shoulder, and flared his mandibles. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not ten, Desolas.”

“But you _are_ done talking to me. Go play nice with the other soldiers.”

Saren hissed at him, then elbowed him sharply again and wandered off. Stupid brat.

In the ring, Abrudas had finished posturing, and paced over to the side of the ring as two sergeants took her place. She nodded respectfully to Desolas and took the spot Saren had vacated, folding her arms across her chest. “Sir.”

“Lieutenant.” He shifted slightly, trying not to look like he’d just been arguing with his brother over her.

She was quiet for a moment, watching the spar, then lowered one mandible. “So, are you going to say anything, or are you just going to watch with your mandibles on the floor?”

He stiffened, and the lowered mandible waggled invitingly. “My quarters or yours, General?”

* * *

 

_Desolas picked at his cuticles, watching the floor. He should have been more careful, should have told her to stay back until they were certain it was safe. No, no, that wouldn’t have worked. She liked being on the front line, with her men. It was where she was needed, so it was where she wanted to be. An admirable trait in a leader, but the worst possible one in a… in a…_

_He buried his face in his hands. He’d have to say it sooner or later. His last boyfriend had said that was his problem, he didn’t like any word that implied a commitment until after the situation was gone. Spirits, he hadn’t even been able to call Kartus the b-word until after they’d split up. Even Saren, who couldn’t bring himself to so much as admit that he enjoyed friends’ company, kept telling him to just say it already._

_He heard a door open, and he glanced up in time to see a crestless doctor slip out the door to Abrudas’s room, easing it closed behind her. She checked at her datapad, then glanced around, gaze finally settling on him after a second. “General Arterius?” she asked, trotting over. “Dr. Aelina Corelus. I’m in charge of the lieutenant’s well-being while she’s here.”_

_He stood and shook her hand, mandibles fluttering. “How is she?”_

_“Stabilized, thankfully. She took some substantial damage in the blast, but she’ll pull through. There’ll be heavy scarring, and I’d hazard a guess at a permanent limp, but she’s a real trooper. No need to worry.”_

_He sighed in relief, and the doctor flicked a mandible. “She’s resting now, but you can go in and see her for a few minutes, if you want.”_

* * *

 

Desolas yawned and nuzzled the hand cradling his face. “Mm. Morning.”

The mattress shifted under him, and the hand moved away as Abrudas sat up. “I was wondering if you were going to wake up,” she hummed, subvocals slow and drowsy.

He flicked one mandible. “I don’t know, I think I might just stay in bed today. You might’ve worn me out last night.”

She chuckled. “That was fun. I liked the movie date beforehand, that was sweet.” She lifted one mandible. “You’re not starting to fall in love with me, are you?”

He froze, and she laughed, leaning down to press a light kiss against his brow plate and run her talons through his crest. “You’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.” She leaned back and went to collect her clothes from the floor, adding, “Don’t worry, beautiful. Far as the troops know, we pulled an all-nighter planning drills and stuff.”

She inspected her uniform, then sighed. “I’ll bring you breakfast if you let me store changes of clothes up here.”

He managed to swallow the lump in his throat and find his voice just long enough to say, “Deal.”

* * *

 

_The room was peaceful as he entered, the only sounds being the heart monitor and Abrudas’s slow, raspy breathing. He hesitated for a step, then made his way over to the bedside, pulling up a chair and sinking down with a long sigh._

_It occurred to him that he’d only ever seen Abrudas shirtless in the privacy of his quarters, and almost always for either sex, sleep, or both. Seeing her lying still in the hospital bed, with her torso covered in bandages and wires for medical equipment, felt… wrong, almost. He couldn’t quite put words to it, but his gut told him he wasn’t supposed to see a woman who could knock him on his back in less than two minutes in the ring this vulnerable. Like he was witnessing the universe coming unraveled._

_After a moment, he gently took her hand in both of his, rubbing his thumb-claw along the back. “Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s me.”_

* * *

 

Saren had always been irritatingly observant, according to Desolas. A very quick study, if his little brother could see something done once or twice, he’d have the basics memorized, and use it to whatever advantage he deemed necessary.

So Desolas was more than a little concerned when he noticed Saren watching Abrudas brawl in the ring with laser-focus intensity.

He’d already told the squadron present that he’d give money for a nice dinner to whoever could defeat her in a fight, as well as promised _her_ a dinner date when they docked at Cipritine in a few days. If it were anyone but Saren, or if they weren’t brothers, he wouldn’t be concerned in the slightest. But as it _was_ , and they _were_ …

He elbowed Saren to get his attention as Abrudas pinned the latest challenger. “You are _not_ tagging along on my date,” he hissed, mandibles down and crest up in an aggression display.

Saren blinked at him slowly, mandibles parted and lifted ever-so-slightly in that aggravating little smile he had, the one that clearly said he was up to something and knew something Desolas didn’t. “We’ll see about that.”

In the ring, Abrudas chased off her last opponent with a taunting call for the next victim, and Saren darted forward. In a few light, almost dainty steps, Saren slipped up behind Abrudas, drew back his hand, and landed a blow to her shoulder with a solid _thwack!_

Before Desolas could even register what was happening, Saren had gotten Abrudas’s legs out from under her and pinned her to the floor, hands behind his back and mandibles drooping in apparent disinterest betrayed only by the smug gleam in his eyes. The room went dead silent, and even Desolas could only stare as Saren hopped off Abrudas and offered a hand to help her up.

Somewhat delayed by shock, the room didn’t erupt into cheers until the two had already almost reached Desolas, heads together and subvocals thrumming with amusement. Desolas frowned and folded his arms across his chest, eyeing the two of them warily. “What’s so funny?”

Saren twitched one mandible. “So,” he said dryly, “what’s for dinner?”

Desolas’s mandibles snapped in tight to his face with a click. “Why don’t you go to the mess hall and find out?” he replied, having to force his voice to stay smooth.

Saren smirked briefly, then drifted off as Abrudas took up a stance next to Desolas, nudging him with her shoulder. “Relax, he’s just trying to get to you.”

“He’s too old to be acting like this,” he snapped back, fighting back a snarl.

She rolled her eyes and leaned up against the wall. “Easy, General. He agreed to sit at a different table. Besides, he won’t be around the _entire_ night. We’ll have plenty of time alone to spend together.”

She waggled a mandible, and he took a moment to decipher what exactly she meant (well, okay, more like he knew _exactly_ what she meant, and was just taking time to stop internally groaning over the pun), then sighed heavily. “After an evening being chaperoned by my _little brother_ , that would be a _relief_.”

“Good to know,” she said, bumping her forehead against the side of his cowl. “Just remember to change your sheets beforehand. Those standard-issue ones are _terrible_ against my knees.”

* * *

 

_He talked for a long time._

_He talked about the mission, and what had gone wrong, and what he should have done, and how they could have avoided her landing in the hospital. He talked about Saren, and his snarling, spitting fury, and his hissed declaration that he would find the Harper human and make him pay, and how worried Desolas was that his brother was going down a dark path. He talked about the aliens they’d found on the planet, and how the Council was welcoming them with too-open arms, and how there was talk that Councilor Aepharia would lose her position over the whole mess, and how there was debate over who would be named Chief Ambassador after Sparatus took Aepharia’s place._

_The disasters at 314 could only fill up so much conversation. He talked about how beautiful Cipritine was now, at the height of summer, with parks gleaming with vibrant, silver life and bustling with children playing under the watchful gaze of their parents and siblings. He talked about his friends in the city, and how he’d visited them while he was waiting for visiting hours, and all the gossip Sephira and Tiustor and Alorius and Variaka had filled him in on over tea and the irritating vids their respective children had been watching. And eventually, he talked about them._

_“Spirits, I’m sorry, Valis,” he murmured, squeezing her hand as tightly as he dared. “I should have been more careful, or not let you go out… I thought maybe, if you came back intact, I might have been able to use the word, or any word, really, but you didn’t, and now you’re here, and…” He sighed. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. I wanted you to be safe and happy, not trapped in a hospital. I still do.”_

_He paused to breathe, and in that moment, he heard a very quiet rustle and a slow, wheezing exhale. “Don’t beat yourself up,” Abrudas breathed, one mandible twitching weakly. “It was my decision.”_

_If he could have choked on his own tongue, he would have. Instead, he dropped her hand and froze, eyes going wide. “How long have you been listening?”_

_She blinked and slowly raised her mandibles into a small smile. “Did you take any pictures of the park for me?”_

_His heart creeping into his throat, he shook his head. “It didn’t cross my mind. Sorry.”_

_“Mm.” She moved her head back to stare up at the ceiling again, closing her eyes. “You can do it later.”_

_“Of course. Anything.”_

_She cracked an eye open and looked at him for a long moment out of the corner of her eye, then closed it again and shifted in bed. “You’re awfully compliant.”_

_He fidgeted and coughed into a fist. “Yes, well. You’re in the hospital.”_

_“No, I don’t think that’s it.” She yawned, wincing when that apparently twitched something it shouldn’t have, then settled back into bed. “You were worried.”_

_He sucked in a breath, then slowly lowered his head to stare at the floor. “I almost lost you,” he said quietly, clasping and unclasping his hands._

_She let out a low hum. “That’s more like it.” She turned her head to look at him again, reopening her eyes and letting one mandible drop open. “I’ll probably be on forced shore leave for a while, you know. Give me time to recover. Think I heard one doc say I’ll have a limp for the rest of my life.”_

_His heart dropped from his throat straight down into his gizzard, and he looked up at her quickly. “You’ll be fine,” he insisted, trying to force down the worried subvocals that would say otherwise._

_She chuckled quietly. “You don’t have to convince_ me _of that, Des. I think it’s more you have to convince yourself.”_

_Feeling his neck heat up, he looked back down. “I… The medics put you under for the entire trip back to Cipritine, and it was touch and go for a while. Up until they got you stabilized here, I thought… I thought you weren’t going to make it.”_

_She made a scoffing sort of sound. “I thought you knew me better than that.”_

_“I do,” he insisted. “I just… It made me think. About you, and me, and us, and…” He exhaled heavily. If this wasn’t about to be the cheesiest thing he ever said in his life, it would come very close. “I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted you to stay on this side of the Veil, with me.”_

_She was silent for a while, then slowly reached out and grasped at his hand. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not about to promise to marry you or anything, but we’ll figure it out. Soldier’s honor.”_

* * *

 

Desolas grimaced and screwed his eyes shut against Trebia’s rays piercing through the blinds, rolling over only to find Valis waiting for him when he reopened his eyes. “Morning,” she hummed, giving him a tired smile.

He flicked one mandible and buried his face in the pillows. “Go back to sleep,” he mumbled. “Spirits know you need it, after last night.”

She yawned, and he felt an arm drape itself over his torso lazily. “Don’t you grumble about Tani. She’s only a baby, she can’t help herself.”

“I know,” he said. “But you should still go back to sleep.”

“Mm.” Plates brushed against his forehead, then the bed shifted, presumably as Valis got up. “Next time your brother’s on Palaven, we can ask him to babysit while we get some uninterrupted rest. But right now, I’m going to make breakfast. What do you want?”

He grunted. “Something edible.”

“Refrigerator Roulette it is. Hope you like that last cut of mystery meatloaf from my mom’s visit. You know, the one before the wedding.”

He whined, and she laughed as she left the room. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking blearily around the room as he tried to remember what he’d done with his last clean set of sweat pants, or at least a pair that hadn’t been worn in a week or so.

It had been a good ten years since he’d first visited Valis in the hospital following the disastrous mission on Shanxi. They’d kept dating off and on for a while, and finally married five years back, now with a baby approaching her first birthday. Saren had developed a sudden allergy to bumming a place to stay off his brother, and moved in with his Spectre partner. Something Kryik. Desolas supposed he’d have to start remembering Kryik’s first name if Saren ever owned up to the very obvious crush he had on him, but for now, just calling him “Kryik” intimidated the kid to no end, so it would do. Valis had gotten promoted, so now Saren insisted her name was Commander, not Lieutenant.

Now if only the Council would give Saren free reign to pursue the Harper human from Shanxi like the vermin he was as an actual mission instead of something he did in his off time, things would be downright storybook-esque.


End file.
